If I take a tumble, I'll mae quite a splash, but at least I won't smash against the deck and make a mess. Still be dead, though.

I'm really a peaceful sort of coward.

You was talkin' out of yer head last night, too," chortles Davy. "No one's gonna fancy me. I'm gonna be ugly and no on'es gonna fancyme!" he mimics, mincing about the hammock. "You are such a rum cove, Jacky, for thinkin' such things when yer just about beat t' death! Fancy me? Fancy me? Jacky, no one's gonna fancy us, we're all gonna end up lookin' like Snag!" "Which is how a salty dog sailor's supposed to look," says Willy with a firm nod. "And you're halfway there, Jack-o!" crows Tink. Ah, the sweet comfort of friends.

But surely we are not allowed..." "Allowed?" I counters. "We're allowed to do anything in this world until someone says we ain't allowed and that someone can back it up.

We clear the harbor and the wind catches her sails and my beautiful ship leans over ever so gracefully, and her elegant bow cuts cleanly into the increasing chop of the waves. I take a deep breath and my chest expands and my heart starts thumping so strongly I fear the others might see it beat through the cloth of my jacket. I face the wind and my lips peel back from my teeth in a grin of pure joy.

I warn't never meant to be a lady, I know that now. I got streaks of wildness in me that trip me up every time, and just like streaks in clothes, there's some dirt that just won't wash out.

The pants come down. Most look shamefaced, but tha Arthur McBride is not the least bit shy about showing off his equipment, oh no, he isn't. He grins in my direction. 'Not all that impressive, boyo